I Just Want to Feel
by brittanaislove
Summary: Brittany finds scars on Santana's body that she has been hiding from everyone. When the truth finally comes out, Brittany tries to comfort Santana in a way only she can.
1. Chapter 1

**This story was inspired by an interview where Heather Morris said [about Naya]: "She has scars all over her body."**

**I'm writing this as a birthday present for a girl I follow on Tumblr, Nayatrollvera (she's awesome, you should follow her). It's not quite done yet, I'm not sure how long it will be, but I'm thinking probably three or four chapters. This first chapter is super short, more of an intro. **

**I've been quite busy with school and work, so this is a little more thrown together than I would have liked.. but I'm having a good time writing it and I hope you enjoy. Of course, feedback and/or suggestions are welcome and appreciated :) I will try to get the rest finished and uploaded asap. **

**Happy Birthday, Nayatrollvera :)**

* * *

><p>"<em>I love him, too."<em>

Brittany's voice echoed in her head, her words twisting in her gut, as Santana stumbled through the front door of her house, throwing her bag on the floor and stumbling up the steps, the world distorted by the hot, heavy tears she had somehow managed to keep under control through the rest of the school day. She threw herself on her bed, buried her face in her pillow and cried. _How could she do this to me, _she thought_. How could she choose him? How... how could I have been so stupid?_

An hour or so later, when the heaving in her stomach subsided and she felt like she could sort of breathe again, Santana rolled over on her back and stared at the ceiling. She had never felt so hurt and so numb at the same time. It was an impossible feeling and she didn't know how else to handle it. She mustered up every ounce of strength in her body, pulled herself up off the bed, and changed into an oversized white t-shirt and a pair of fleece pajama shorts. She didn't even have to think, she just moved. Her mind seemingly on auto pilot, she found herself in her bathroom opening the medicine cabinet, dumping her cup full of hair clips and other small random objects that had collected in there into the sink. She stared at the mess until her eyes found what she was looking for. Her prize. The only think that could relieve the tension building up inside her, threatening to explode at any moment.


	2. Chapter 2

**Here is chapter two for you guys. Hope you enjoy :)**

**If you have a Tumblr account, you should follow me for some**_**awesome**_**Brittana lovins (mostly all re-blogged, not mine, I'm not that talented lol) to hold us all over during this hiatus Fox is trying to kill us with for the next few weeks. You can find me at causewithfeelingsitsbetter(dot)tumblr (dot)com**

**Thank you all again for reading and, like I said, comments/reviews/suggestions make me a happy girl :)**

It had all started when she was fourteen. She had started to realize that she was different than her friends, she wasn't... _normal_. Her parents spent most of their time traveling for work, so, ever since she was a little kid, when it was time for summer break, they decided that she needed to "get out and make some new friends". Santana knew even at a young age her parents were sending her away to basically be babysat all summer so they didn't have to worry about her, but she didn't really mind. She kind of liked Camp Erie. And she did make friends. Summer after summer, year after year, she hung out with the same group of girls. They swam and hiked and played soccer during the day, and built tents on their pushed-together beds at night, huddling underneath with flashlights, telling ghost stories. But as the years progressed and they got older, the ghost stories turned into gossips and giggles about boys.

Santana listened to her friends talk about their first kisses and stayed up all night "on watch" when one of the girls snuck out to meet up with a boy in the middle of the night. It was fun for her because she enjoyed seeing her friends so happy, but she herself never had any kind of a crush on a boy, let alone wanted to sneak out to meet one from the camp to do only god knows what with them . Sometimes she felt like maybe there was something wrong with her, maybe there was a reason all of her friends got asked out but never her, and it made her a little self conscious. So one day at lunch when her friend Jamie told her there was a cute boy, James, who was interested in her and wanted to "meet" at midnight by the lake that night, Santana didn't know what to think. Her friends, wide eyed and mouths gaping in envy, all gasped and told her how lucky she was to be asked out by _James._ He was older, sixteen, and totally badass, they intrigued her. She felt special, wanted, like the rest of the girls. So she smiled along with them and said she'd do it. She would sneak out to meet this James because it was clearly the thing to do.

At 11:45 that night, Jamie applied the last of Santana's lip gloss while the other girls held hands and squealed with excitement. When she had their approval, she slipped silently out the door and down the cabin steps, tip-toeing across the grass and towards the lake. It wasn't until she was out of sight of the cabin that fear finally struck in her chest. It hadn't occurred to her until this point that she actually had to go meet this boy, out in the middle of the dark, alone. She had been so absorbed in her friends' excitement and her own desperation to be accepted and wanted like they all were that she didn't even realize what she had gotten herself into. What was going to happen when she met him? What was she expected to do? Was he going to try to kiss her? She found that the thought of him, or any boy really, trying to kiss her was absolutely appalling to her. But she couldn't let this stop her. _Stop being such a baby, Lopez._

When she finally got to the huge old tree stump by the lake, the popular late-night meeting spot, James was already there.

"Hey," he greeted her, nonchalantly.

"Hey," she replied awkwardly. She was glad it was dark because she was sure the heat burning in her face had turned her bright red. If James noticed, he didn't let on one bit.

"So, I've seen you a few times in the mess hall." His voice was low, almost a whisper, as he moved towards her. "I've been wanting to ask you out for a few days now, actually."

He moved closer to her and Santana backed up into the tree trunk for support. It was short and she found herself almost sitting on it, her hands gripping the edge, the uneven bark uncomfortable under her tight squeeze.

James, who obviously found this somehow inviting, pressed himself up against her as he continued. "I like your look, Lopez." She swallowed hard and closed her eyes as she felt his hot breath on her neck. "You're hot."

Her eyes shot open when she felt a hand on her thigh, slowly inching its way towards the bottom of her shorts. Her heart pounded so hard that it throbbed in her ears and she wondered how he possibly couldn't hear it. This couldn't be it. This couldn't be what all her friends did when they came out here. How could this ever be enjoyable to anyone? She had never been so uncomfortable in her entire life. She felt his fingers creep to the edge of her shorts and her eyes darted around the dark scene, desperately trying to find an escape.

"You nervous, babe?" He whispered in her ear. She felt the hot nausea rising in her stomach. She tried to answer, but the lump in her throat made it impossible, so she settled for a weak nod. He let out a short, low laugh and kissed her ear lobe as he slipped one finger up the leg of her shorts and hooked her underwear. The sudden unexpected intrusion made her jump and cry out, startling James enough that he retracted his hand and took a half step backwards. Santana took the opportunity to step to the side, distancing herself from him. "I thought I heard someone," she lied as she took another step back.

"I didn't hear anything. There's no one out here, babe," he assured as he took a step forward towards her. "Really, I promise, no one is out this time of night."

"No, I.. I heard something. I can't.. I can't, I'm sorry, I can't," Santana sputtered as she clumsily stumbled through the grass, almost losing her footing on the frosty morning dew and falling to the ground. She turned and ran through the darkness, and by the time she got back to her cabin, her lungs burned and screamed for air so badly that she wondered if she had forgotten to breathe the entire way back.

After taking a minute to compose herself, Santana crept up the steps and cracked the door open slowly, trying to avoid making any incriminating noises for the counselors to hear. All the girls in their cabin had passed out on their beds, still dressed, and not one of them stirred except for Jamie, who awoke with the final click of the lock after she had closed the door. She rubbed her eyes and looked at Santana, squinted and looked at the clock, and then looked back at Santana. "It hasn't even been an hour, what happened?" she asked. Santana told her that they met where they were supposed to, but as soon as stuff started happening, they heard someone in the woods and were too scared to continue. "Aw, man, that sucks! It was probably just another couple… but that's alright, there's always tomorrow night."

Tomorrow night. Suddenly the nausea was back, and it was everything she could do to not throw up right there on the spot. Instead she smiled and nodded. "Yeah, tomorrow, for sure." Satisfied, Jamie said goodnight and turned back over on her bed, falling back to sleep almost instantly. Santana pulled off her shorts and replaced them with a pair of fuzzy ducky pajama pants, which she had borrowed once at a sleepover with her best friend back home, Brittany. Santana crawled into bed and lay facing the wall. She wanted nothing more at that moment than to go home, to be away from this place, to sleep in her own bed, to see Brittany. She told herself that first thing in the morning she would go to the nurse's station and tell them she wasn't feeling well the last few days, that it was getting worse, and she would ask to go home. Even if she had to call her aunt in Pennsylvania to come get her and go stay with her, she would. Anything to never have to face James ever again.

Hugging her pillow tight to her chest, Santana slowly exhaled everything she'd been holding in for the last hour. Tears running down her face and soaking her pillow, she silently cried herself to sleep the last night she ever stayed at Camp Erie.

It had been almost three years since her traumatizing experience at camp. She started high school after that summer. Santana watched all of her friends walk down the hallways holding hands with their boyfriends, listening to them talk about their boyfriends, watching them flirt with and kiss their boyfriends. Boys flirted with her, boys asked her out, boys tried to make out with her. And every single time, she felt that same feeling of repulsive disgust as soon as they laid a finger on her. But as much as she loathed the thought of being intimate with boys, she feared even more that idea of being rejected and made fun of by her peers for being a prude. So she went along with it, all the while wondering why she couldn't ever enjoy the closeness, the touching, the affection all her friends relished.

The first time she had sex had been a nightmare. After a less than enjoyable date at Breadstix, the guy had invited her back to his house, to which she lamely replied "sure." They ended up on his couch, watching Saturday Night Live reruns, making out. Once he started stroking her thigh and whispered "my mom won't be home till late", Santana immediately knew what was coming. He had heard the rumors about how easy she was, rumors she had secretly started herself to look cool and experienced, and he wanted his share of the action. Until this point, she had successfully avoided ever actually having to have sex with anyone. But tonight, she thought as her heart sank into her stomach, was the end of that. _Maybe it won't be so bad_, she tried to reason with herself. _Maybe it'll actually be enjoyable. I mean, he is cute.._

It was, however, anything but enjoyable. Between the awkwardness of the couch, his inexperience, and her lack of enthusiasm, it was a disaster. When he started trailing sloppy kisses down her neck, she closed her eyes and tried to think about anything but the current situation. His rough, stubbly facial irritated her neck, and the willpower it took to resist pushing him away and scratching it gave her chills. Although her eyes were closed, she was painfully aware of his every move. She silently allowed him to pull her underwear down from underneath her short skirt, and when he ran a single finger through her dry folds, she managed to feign a small, somewhat convincing moan. When she heard him unzip his pants, her stomach turned and she frantically wished that she hadn't eaten so many bread sticks. The last thing she needed was the whole school to know she had thrown up on a guy while they were having sex. Totally not hot.

Her mortifying thoughts of throwing up were instantly forgotten and replaced by a sudden shooting pain searing through her body, originating from between her legs. A sharp gasp escaped from her throat and she bit down on her tongue to stop herself from crying out. Grunting in her ear as he thrust into her, Santana gritted her teeth and willed herself to go on. Seconds felt like hours. After a few minutes, he pulled out, licked his fingers and ran them between her legs. She found that it hurt a little less when he reentered, but it was still a far cry from enjoyable. After what seemed like an eternity, it was finally over. He sucked in a heavy breath, jammed himself into her one last time, and then collapsed on top of her, panting.

"That was really great, but I have to go. You gonna take me home or what?" Santana said as she rolled the guy off of her onto the floor, picked her underwear up off the end of the couch and slid them back on, ignoring the ache between her legs. The truth was though, she really didn't particularly want to go home. She just wanted to get out of there. She picked up her phone and texted the first person that came to her mind: Brittany. To Santana's relief, Brittany had not gone out that night. So after she collected her things, she had the guy drop her off at the place she had considered her second home for so many years now.


	3. Chapter 3

Santana cracked the door and entered the dark Pierce home, creeping slowly up the old wooden steps, careful not to make any noise that would wake Brittany's sleeping family. She followed the glow of the TV emitting from the crack below Brittany's door and was greeted by a welcoming smile when she made it into her room. Somehow, in that moment, that smile made her feel better than she could remember feeling in a long, long time.

"Hey Britt-Britt, whatcha doin?" Santana asked, climbing onto the bed next to her best friend.

"Nothing, watching TV. How was your date? Was he awesome? I bet he was." Brittany questioned, her eyes shining with excitement for Santana.

Santana glanced at the TV before answering and couldn't help but smile when she saw that Brittany had been watching Animal Cops. Her genuine love for animals was one of her best qualities, Santana thought. Brittany had once managed to convince Santana to accompany her on a Saturday trip to the animal shelter she volunteered at. The place smelled like ammonia and shit and Santana regretting agreeing to come the second she walked through the door. It didn't take long before her attitude changed, though. When she saw Brittany mothering a litter of kittens whose mom had abandoned them, carefully feeding them formula through a syringe and cuddling them like their little lives depended on it, Santana's heart melted and she found herself nearly in tears at Brittany's tender devotion to the tiny, helpless creatures.

"Animal Cops? Really, Britt?" Santana teased, looking back at the blonde and raising an eyebrow.

Brittany's expression dropped as she looked back at the TV. "It's so sad, San. You wouldn't even believe what some people do to poor, innocent little animals. I can't even… maybe I'll be an Animal Cop after high school…" Brittany's voice trailed off, lost for a moment in her thoughts. "I don't know, but Santana, what about your date? What happened? How was it?" Her eyes lit up again.

"It was alright. He was nice," Santana answered her, completely uninterested in talking about it.

"That's it?" Brittany gave her a questioning look. "Did you guys… do anything?"

"Duh, Britt." Santana looked down and picked at her fingernails. "Everything was cool, I had a good night. But you know what could make this night even better?" Santana looked up and her dark eyes met Brittany's clear blue ones. "Ice cream. Do you have any?"

Brittany grinned from ear to ear and laughed, "Do we have ice cream? That's like asking if Rachel Berry has every Broadway Musical song ever made on CD in her personal collection!" Brittany bounced off the best, bounding towards the door as Santana shuddered internally at Brittany's comparison. "I want whipped cream and cherries on mine," she announced as she reached for the door knob.

"Britt, Jesus, take it easy. Let's not wake your parents with our middle of the night fat kid escapades, yeah?" Santana warned, following Brittany's lead. Brittany shot her a pouty look, but her attempt to make her feel guilty failed miserable when she couldn't hold it longer than a few seconds.

They tip-toed as quietly as they could manage down the creaky steps and down the hallway into the kitchen. Santana sat on a bar stool at the island while Brittany got out two bowls, spoons, whipped cream, cherries, and a gallon of chocolate ice cream. Santana, elbow on the counter and head resting on her hand, watched Brittany prepare their desserts and couldn't help but notice how good her friend's tanned, toned legs looked in her white Soffee shorts. The way she gracefully fluttered around the kitchen, you could tell she had spent the last twelve years practicing dance. Santana felt the warm tingle of butterflies in her stomach. It was nothing like what she felt earlier that night on her date; that was sickening, unwelcoming. These butterflies turned her stomach in a good way.

This feeling, Santana suddenly realized, was actually a familiar one. It was the same feeling she got when Brittany linked their pinkies together while they were walking down the hallway. The same feeling she got when Brittany hugged her. The same feeling she got when Brittany playfully kissed her cheek, telling her that she was her best friend. And as best as she could recall, she never got this feeling around anyone else. Why only Brittany? Was it a best-friends thing or what?

"San?" Santana snapped back to the present, realizing she had drifted off into her thoughts. Her eyes shot from Brittany's legs back to her face, which was cocked slightly with a questioning look. _Oh god, _she thought. _Did she see me staring at her? How long have I been staring?_

"What?" Santana sputtered, praying that her embarrassment wouldn't surface on her face in the form of red cheeks. "I was thinking about… what did you say?"

"I asked you how many cherries you wanted, Space Cadet," Brittany giggled.

"Oh. Um. I don't care, surprise me."

"Mm, alright."

Brittany put the ice cream and toppings away, and the two girls made their way back to Brittany's bedroom. Back on the bed, the girls ate their ice cream and watched the last few minutes of Animal Cops. When they were finished, Brittany took their bowls back down to the kitchen. While she was gone, Santana found a pair of shorts and a tank top in Brittany's laundry basket – something much more comfortable to sleep in than a skirt and tight blouse. After changing, she slipped under the covers, made herself comfortable, and closed her eyes, forcing herself not to think about what had happened that night. She hardly even heard Brittany come back into the room.

"Brr, that ice cream made me cold, Sanny." Santana opened her eyes, but before she had time to reply, Brittany climbed under the covers, shivering, and snuggled close to Santana's warm body.

Santana felt her heart skip a beat. Brittany made her feel so good, so happy. Santana carefully slipped her arm around Brittany and gently caressed her back. She rested her head on the pillow just centimeters above Brittany's golden locks, inhaling her scent. Santana loved the physical closeness she shared with Brittany, always had for as long as she could remember. The way they hugged every morning at school, when Brittany held her hand in the hallway, how they cuddled under the covers and watched movies every weekend. Brittany's scent was warm and comforting to Santana. She made her feel safe. As she brought her hand up from Brittany's back to delicately brush her blonde bangs out of her friends face, tucking them behind her ear, Santana suddenly identified the longing feeling that had been festering deep inside her chest for months, if not years. She wanted to kiss her best friend.

"Tell me what really happened." Brittany's voice was barely a whisper, so low that Santana almost didn't even hear her, but loud enough to snap her out of her daydream.

"What?" She asked, knowing exactly what she meant.

Brittany pulled away from Santana enough to look her in the eyes. "Your date. I'm not stupid, Santana."

At that, Santana felt tears sting her eyes. The feeling was almost embarrassment. Brittany wasn't stupid. She knew that she couldn't lie to her and get away with it that easily. The way Brittany looked at her made her want to lose it, made her want to let go of everything she'd been holding back, tell her everything about her past, about summer camp, about how she could never feel anything for any guy she'd ever been with.

But she couldn't. She just couldn't.

"I don't know, Britt. I just… wasn't that in to him. There was just something about him."

Brittany's expression softened. "Then why did you sleep with him?"

Santana felt the tears coming back to her eyes. She couldn't let Brittany see her cry, not over this. How could she even begin to try to explain to her something she didn't understand herself? She wanted to get up and run. She wanted to hide. But she couldn't do either of those. So she went with the first alternative that came to her mind.

She leaned in and kissed Brittany.

The instant their lips touched, Santana felt like a weight had been lifted off her chest. Every feeling of sadness and regret from the last few years instantly dissolved. Kissing Brittany was like nothing she had ever experienced. Her lips were soft, warm, inviting. Not cold and chapped, scraping against hers sloppily like every guy she'd ever kissed. Santana found herself softly tugging at Brittany's lower lip a little before sucking it lightly, wanting desperately for Brittany to feel the same kiss she was feeling. Santana felt weightless, like she was in a dream, floating on a cloud, completely unaware of anything other than this beautiful woman next to her.

And right then, an overwhelming wave of reality hit her, and Santana realized exactly what she had just done. She pulled away from Brittany so suddenly that you'd think Brittany's lips had burned her. Eyes wide and biting her bottom lip, she stared at Brittany in horror, expecting the same look back.

What she saw instead gave her a feeling she didn't know how to describe. Brittany wasn't horrified. As a matter of fact, she looked the complete opposite. Eyes still closed, with just the tip of her tongue, she lightly licked her lips, taking in the rest of Santana's kiss that remained there, and smiled.

"That was nice, San." Brittany opened her eyes and looked at Santana, who had gone from terrified to confused in a matter of seconds. "I've never kissed a girl before."

Santana didn't know what to say. She hadn't expected this reaction from her friend. "I'm sorry.." she offered, more of a question than an apology.

Brittany giggled. "I've heard of girls kissing their best friends as practice. I've thought about it, but I didn't think I would like it as much as I did."

Santana's heart pounded frantically against the inside of her chest so hard that she felt like it was throwing her balance off. At first she felt her stomach sink because Brittany saw this as practicing for boys. But then a second wind hit her and she realized.. s_he said she liked it. Brittany liked kissing me._

"Oh, well, yeah. Girls do this kind of thing all the time. Girls learn better from other girls cause, ya know, we know what we like." Santana could hardly believe she was able to form words. "Even when they have boyfriends," she added quickly when the image of Brittany sitting on Artie's lap in Glee club suddenly popped into her mind.

Satisfied with what Santana had told her, Brittany rolled over onto her back, her arm resting across her stomach. "That makes sense," she agreed.

Watching Brittany closely, Santana chewed her bottom lip and tried to decide what to do next. She didn't want it to end there. She wanted Brittany more. No, she needed Brittany more. But what if Brittany didn't feel the same way? What if she rejected her? Santana wasn't sure that she could handle the rejection. Not now, not tonight.

But her heart and her head were working on two different wave lengths. Almost as if it were moving without her consent, Santana slid her hand along the sheets and slipped it under Brittany's, her fingers lightly caress the soft skin of her palms.

"Hey," she whispered, lacing her fingers between Brittany's.

Brittany turned her head to look at Santana, their eyes meeting. "Yeah?"

"I, I, um.." Santana stuttered nervously. She broke her gaze from Brittany's, swallowing as she looked down at their intertwined fingers. "You're a.. you kiss good."

_Jesus, Santana, really?_

"Yeah?" A smile tugged at the corners of Brittany's lips. "You're pretty good yourself."

Heart skipped another beat. Was this real life? Santana couldn't believe this was happening. She brought her eyes back to meet Brittany's. "Do you think.. I mean, would you want to.."

Her words trailed off, but before she had time to try to recover, Brittany's lips met hers again and all apprehension evaporated. Brittany slipped her hand around the back of Santana's neck, tangling her fingers in her hair and pulling her towards her. She felt Brittany's tongue graze her upper lip, gently sucking it between her teeth and then letting it slip back out. Santana had never felt anything like it in her entire life. The gentleness and sincerity of Brittany's kiss was almost overwhelming. Up until this point, Santana had never known a kiss could feel like this. So warm, so nice, so comfortable… so right.

Before she had time to think about whether or not what she was about to do was okay, Santana ran her hand across Brittany's thigh and up under her t-shirt, her nails grazing the warm skin underneath. Without even meaning to, Santana brushed against Brittany's bra-less breast, unleashing a small "mmm" from Brittany that hummed against Santana's needy lips.

This small, seemingly insignificant moan from Brittany nearly put Santana over the edge. A sudden frantic urgency to have Brittany in any and every way possible took over and Santana leaned into Brittany, pushing her onto her back, straddling one of her thighs. She attacks Brittany's lips hungrily, each kiss more desperate than the one before it.

She had just started kissing down her neck when Brittany's questioning voice made her heart stop. "San?"

Santana pulled away from her best friend and sat up on her knees, terrified that she had taken it too far and that she had horribly misinterpreted Brittany's reactions. But Brittany's tug at the bottom of her shirt told a different story.

"Can I? Do you mind?" Brittany asked shyly, still gripping the hem of her tank top.

Suddenly realizing what she was implying, Santana nodded weakly, unable to formulate words or speech of any kind. Brittany's eyes, dark with anticipation and desire, searched Santana's carefully as she pulled her shirt up and then slipped it over her head. Tossing it to the side, Brittany peppered Santana's tanned breasts with light kisses as she reached behind her back to unclasp her bra.

"Britt.." Santana whispered hoarsely, suddenly self conscious. But she was cut short by the hot, tingling sensation of Brittany taking her right nipple into her mouth, suckling and biting it gently. The feeling sent sparks throughout her entire body and she felt her legs shake beneath her own weight. Santana snaked her arm around Brittany's neck for support, arching her back slightly and throwing her head back as a small moan escaped her lips, urging Brittany to go on. A minute later when Santana felt like she had regained use of her limbs, she reached down and pulled Brittany's shirt up and off, a little more roughly than she had intended, desperate to feel the blonde's bare, feverish skin against her own.

Brittany could feel the unsteadiness wracking Santana's core, so she leaned back down onto the bed, pulling the shaky Latina down against her, sighing into the side of her neck at the contact of their skin. She wrapped her arms around Santana and held her like that for a moment, both of them taking in what they were doing.

Santana was beyond worrying if each move she made was acceptable, so when she felt Brittany suck the soft spot where her shoulder meets her neck, she didn't even think before she plunged her hand down the waistline of Brittany's shorts, running her fingers across the damp material between her legs.

"Santana."

Like before, Brittany's voice made Santana's heart skip a beat and she froze, thinking again that maybe she had gone too far.

"Take them off."

"Huh?" Hand still in Brittany's shorts, Santana lifted herself off of Brittany enough that she could look her in the eyes. "Take..?"

"I'm not really in the mood to be teased," Brittany murmured, her lips just fractions of an inch from the dark haired girl's own, her breath on Santana's face dripping with desire. Lips parted, she placed a quick kiss on Santana's and gave her a sly smile.

_She wants me to.. oh my god, she wants me to take her shorts off. Oh my god. She wants me to.. she wants me to touch her? She wants me to touch her. Oh my god. Oh my god._

Doing everything she could to remain calm and not be obvious that her mind was scrambling all over the place, Santana hooked her fingers around the elastic of Brittany's white shorts, and with the help up Brittany arching her butt off the bed, pulled them, along with her pink lacy boy shorts, down her perfectly toned dancer legs and dropped them over the edge of the bed onto the floor.

Santana's mind was on overdrive. Never in her life had she seen anything so beautiful as Brittany's perfect naked body lying in front of her, begging to be touched. Sure that some supernatural force was guiding her, because god knows she couldn't function on her own right now, she ran her hand up Brittany's thigh until she reached her center. Sneaking a quick glance, she saw Brittany biting her bottom lip, eyes closed, chest rising and falling with short, rapid breaths.

When Santana ran just one finger through her slick folds, Brittany released her bottom lip, letting out a heavy sigh. "San.." she swallowed hard. "I told you.."

But Santana didn't give her time to finish. She brought her finger back down, gliding it effortlessly into Brittany warm center. Santana watched as she slid in and out of her best friend, mesmerized by the way Brittany's juices coated her finger. She added another finger, inducing a moan from the blonde. Afraid that Brittany would open her eyes and see her staring at her like she was, mouth hanging open in awe and disbelief, she leaned forward and kissed the other girls stomach. She closed her eyes and rested her head there, pumping her fingers slowly but steadily, lost in the sounds Brittany made as she fingered her.

Her left hand tangled in Santana's hair, Brittany other hand made it's way down between her legs, joining Santana. She ran a single finger through the pool Santana was responsible for before she started dragging it in slow circles around her own clit. Caught off guard, Santana hesitated for a second but an encouraging "don't stop, baby" from Brittany shocked her back to life and she continued what she'd been doing for the last few minutes.

Santana felt Brittany's body tense underneath her, her breathing becoming increasingly faster. Before she had time to think about what was happening, Brittany whispered "I'm.. I'm coming" in a husked, almost painful voice. Santana's breath caught in her throat and she almost choked at the sound of those words, but she somehow managed to keep it together.

Suddenly Brittany's muscles began to clench around Santana's fingers. Santana closed her eyes and began placing hard, frantic kisses all along Brittany's stomach and waistline, her head spinning from hearing Brittany moaning her name over and over as her orgasm peaked. Brittany's grip tightened in Santana's dark locks and Santana pressed her forehead into Brittany's stomach, thrusting as hard as she could into her as she came.

The next thing she knew, Brittany was pulling her back up towards her face, kissing her mouth, and then pushing her on her back onto the bed beside her. Brittany easily removed the shorts Santana had borrowed not even an hour before, dropping them onto the floor inches from her own. Wasting no time at all, Brittany slipped a finger, or maybe two, into Santana, making her cry out. But this time it wasn't in pain or shock. Not like before when any guy had tried to enter her. This time it was explicitly in pleasure. Santana hadn't even realize how wet she had become, but the way Brittany's fingers slid in and out of her so easily was a pretty good indication that she was very turned on. Brittany ran her other hand up Santana's stomach to her breast, gently massaging it for a second before leaning down and flicking her tongue over the hardened nipple, sending yet another wave of pins and needles from her core to her finger tips.

After what felt like only seconds, Santana felt an intense pressure in the pit of her stomach start to build, spreading down her legs, rendering her unable to move. Light headed and short of breath, she squeezed her eyes shut and tilted her head back, unable to stop herself from gasping for air. She grasped the sheets on the bed underneath her and arched her back as the tension released and soared throughout her body, followed by an intense feeling of prickling heat that shook her all over. When the feeling subsided and she was able to breathe normal again, she released the sheets and let herself relax back onto the mattress.

Eyes closed and all of her senses still tingling, Santana felt something warm beside her. Upon opening her eyes, she saw that it was Brittany, back from between her legs, laying next to her, smiling.

"Jesus, Britt," Santana managed to sputter. "Do this often?"

"No, why?" Brittany raised an eyebrow, giving her a questioning look.

"Oh, I don't know," Santana chortled, turning on her side to face her still incredibly naked, incredibly beautiful best friend. "You were just.. that was really good. Like you knew exactly what you were doing."

Brittany's smile returned. "Yeah, well, like you said yourself. Girls know what other girls like cause, ya know, we know what we like."

Santana scoffed playfully, not wholly sure how to take what Brittany just said. She closed her eyes and rubbed them, thinking for a few seconds before answering. "Yeah, exactly." Good enough for now.

Brittany laughed and wrapped her arm around Santana, pulling her close. "So was I at least better than your lame date tonight?" she asked, only half joking.

"Hah." Santana pulled the sheet across their sweaty bodies and draped an arm lazily over Brittany's hip. "So much better, Britts. Plus, we didn't cuddle afterwards. Which is totally the best part, ya know?"

Santana felt Brittany smile against the top of her head. "Yeah, totally."

"Good night, San," Brittany whispered into Santana's hair. Santana placed a light kiss into the hollow of Brittany's throat and whispered goodnight back, closing her eyes as sleepiness engulfed her.

That night she slept peacefully, more comfortable than she had ever been before in her entire life.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Hey guys, sorry for taking so long to update. I've been so, so busy with school and work, but I didn't want to rush this and make it crappy so.. hopefully the wait pays off. I'm pretty happy with this chapter.**

**I just want to say**_**thank you thank you thank you**_**to all of you who added this story to your favorites and/or alerts. It means a lot to me. :)**

**Anyway, just a forewarning, this is an angsty chapter. I hope you enjoy.**

**And, of course, reviews are appreciated ;) Thank you again! PS. follow me on Tumblr if you aren't already! Causewithfeelingsitsbetter(dot)tumblr(dot)com**

The sunlight peaking through the only partially closed blinds was what woke Santana the following morning. Squinting her eyes shut, she rolled over onto her back and stretched her arms above her head, half stifling a yawn. The feeling of silky sheets rubbing against her bare torso reminded her that she was still naked and her eyes shot open, the memories of last night suddenly flooding her mind.

Unsure at first if she had dreamt the whole thing, Santana blinked a few times, trying to adjust to the light. Her eyes darted around the room, across the walls, walls that were not hers. Her bedroom walls were dark and covered with posters. These walls, light purple with shelves full of stuffed animals, belonged to Brittany. Santana turned her head slowly to look beside her and, sure enough, there she was. Asleep on her stomach, arms stretched up underneath the pillow she rested her head on, the sheet tangled halfway to her waist, exposing her bare back. Brittany.

"Oh my god," she whispered to herself. It really happened. What she and Brittany had done was not some crazy dream or outlandish fantasy. It was real.

But, more importantly, so were all the emotions she had felt towards Brittany.

Santana's thoughts raced as she remembered Brittany touching her, remembered the way her fingertips on her skin brought her to life. How she could feel the blood rush to the surface of every contact, leaving her aching for more. She thought back to when she was fourteen, how James' fingers on her thigh made her blood run cold, freezing her with fear. She thought about every guy that she had ever made out with, every guy that had ever felt her up, every guy that had ever touched her in one way or another. It was always the same. None of them had ever made her feel like Brittany had last night. Not a single one.

And then she thought about… him. The guy she had sex with last night, the first guy she'd ever had sex with. She remembered trying to force herself to want it, trying to force her body to react. And how, despite all her trying to feel otherwise, she had prayed desperately for it to end from the moment it began.

But why had everything been so different with Brittany? Why did her body react without her even having to think? Why had she fought to make it last instead of prayed for it to end? What the hell was wrong with all the guys she'd been with that they couldn't make her feel like Brittany had?

And it was then that the realization hit her like a ton of bricks. Maybe there was nothing wrong with them. Maybe there was something wrong with her. Maybe there was a reason that she couldn't get herself to enjoy being touched by boys, a reason that she feared intimacy with them, that she couldn't get aroused no matter how hard she concentrated. There is a word for girls like that. Could she be? _Oh my god,_Santana thought to herself. _I'm not.. I couldn't be.. could I? No, I can't be-_

"Maybe I'm bi," she answered herself out loud, so abruptly that she startled herself. The outburst caused Brittany to stir. She rolled over, pulled the cover over herself, and rubbed her eyes. When she opened them and saw Santana was awake, she smiled.

"Mornin', San. How'd you sleep?"

_Be cool, Lopez._

"Not too bad, considering I slept all exposed with your family totally right in the next room," Santana answered her honestly.

"Hah," Brittany laughed as she sat up, turning away from Santana. Santana watched as the sheet fell and piled around her waist as she reached over the edge of the bed to retrieve the clothes they had discarded a few hours before. Brittany tossed a pair of the shorts and the tank she had been wearing to Santana.

Reaching for the shorts, Santana suddenly froze in fear. She never let anyone undress her fully, particularly from the waist down. But last night she had been completely naked underneath Brittany, too caught in the moment to give it a second thought when Britt had pulled her shorts off. Too caught in the moment to remember there was a reason she had to make sure that never happened.

Clutching the shorts in her hand, her arm still outstretched, she shifted her eyes towards Brittany. She watched as Brittany fumbled with the tangled shirt, trying to turn it back right side out, as if nothing was out of the ordinary. Like there was not a thing to be concerned about.

_It was too dark,_Santana thought to herself, slowly exhaling a sigh of relief. _I'm safe._ Vowing to be more careful in the future, whomever she may be with, Santana allowed herself to relax.

"My mouth tastes like.. morning breath.." Brittany muttered to herself as she pulled her t-shirt over her head. Santana didn't want to stare, but she couldn't pull her eyes away as Brittany stood up to put her shorts on. "I'm gonna brush my teeth, and then… chocolate chip pancakes?" Brittany turned and flashed a hopeful smile at the brunette still lying unclothed in her bed, watching her every move.

"Uh, yeah. Chocolate chip. That sounds great, Britt." Despite her overwhelming confusion about her newfound sexuality crisis, Santana managed to force a smile, thankful that it was early and Brittany probably wouldn't catch the hesitation in her demeanor.

Santana had decided, after much consideration, that she was not going to think too far into what had happened between her and Brittany. It had been a rough night, she just needed the comfort from someone who knew her better than anyone else, she told herself. It wasn't like it was going to become a regular occurrence or anything. Hell, it wasn't like it was ever going to happen again. She couldn't be gay or bi or any of that, she couldn't actually like girls like that. She was super popular and super hot. Guys loved her, girls envied her, everyone feared her. She liked sex. She was in the mood and Brittany just happened to be there. A warm body. No big deal.

But when she tried telling herself this after the second, third, fourth… tenth time her and Brittany slept together, the truth of the situation finally started to sink in. She was lying to herself. And she knew it.

_Lying to yourself and lying to everyone else are two different things though_, she reasoned with her own thoughts. _Just because I know how I feel doesn't mean everyone else needs to know, too. No one needs to know._

_Not even Brittany._

And so her secret was her own. She continued to go out with guys, continued to sleep with Puck, continued to put up an impenetrable front that no one could see past. She acted the part of Santana Lopez, Queen Bitch of McKinley high school, in the show that was her own life. Because that's what it was. A show.

Even Brittany. Sweet, innocent Brittany, who Santana could feel herself falling for a little more each day couldn't know. She felt bad lying to Brittany, but no one could know how Santana felt, not even her. On more than one occasion she felt a sting of panic when Brittany seemed to sense Santana's real feelings. Once while they were laying in bed together, she had even gotten defensive with Brittany, telling her that she didn't make out with her because she loved her, but because she was a warm body and she thrived on the heat of others. She regretted it immediately when she saw the hurt reflecting in Brittany's glassy eyes, looking like she was about to cry. The guilt weighed down on her chest making it temporarily hard to breathe to the point where she almost broke and told her the truth. But still, something held her back. She just couldn't. So she forced herself to breathe as she sat up and pulled her thick dark hair into a pony tail, ignoring the heartache she knew lay right behind her.

Every day, Santana told herself that she was going to start denying Brittany's after school hang out and sleepover requests, both of them full-well knowing that movie cuddles would lead to sweet lady kisses which would lead to more. But when Brittany looked at her, she could feel herself melt inside, all determination disintegrating into thin air the moment Brittany flashed a smile her way. It eventually got to the point where if Brittany didn't come to her each day with an invitation, Santana would go looking for her. To what Santana couldn't quite determine was her delight or dismay, Brittany never turned her down.

"Why do you like sleeping with me?" Brittany asked Santana one evening while they were lying in bed, things starting to heat up. Santana, who had turned and reached over to turn off the bedside lamp, wasn't sure if she heard her correctly. Hesitating for a moment, she turned back around to face her best friend.

"What?"

"Why do you have sex with me? Is it actually me that you like, or do you just… am I just convenient?" Brittany's eyes searched Santana's, an obvious sadness polluting her blue pools.

Taken aback, Santana scrunched her eyebrows and stared back at Brittany. "Of course I like you. I like sleeping with you because…" Unable to think of anything better, faster, "I just… I like you. Why?"

"Then why do you always turn off the lights?" Brittany broke their eye contact, her gaze falling to her fingers that were absentmindedly rolling the sheets between her fingertips.

Santana sighed and reached a hand to stroke Brittany's cheek gently. "It's for your own good, BrittBritt," her answer not completely a lie. "Yours and mine, both. I just don't want us to get all mixed up, ya know? I don't want to risk us starting to, like, have feelings and shit like that." Santana winked playfully, running a hand through Brittany's messy hair, gently tugging when she reached the ends.

The truth was though, Santana wished with all of her heart that they could leave the lights on. She longed to see Brittany's perfect body again, naked and pleading for her touch. She wanted to see the fire in her eyes as she traveled down her body, taking care to kiss every inch of skin, and the way her expression changed almost instantly from anticipation to pleasure when Santana's fingers found her warm, wet center.

But it was a risk that she just could not take.

"Oh." Brittany half smiled, unconvincingly. Not really wanting to press the issue any further right then though, she looked back up and met Santana's look with her own. "So it's not cause you think I'm ugly or anything, right?" she joked.

Thankful that Brittany had dropped the subject, Santana scoffed and leaned in to press her lips against the blonde's. "Christ, Britt. Have you looked in the mirror lately?" she remarked, rolling her eyes in mock sarcasm as she turned back over once again, reaching for the lamp switch.

A week or two later, Brittany confronted Santana again, this time with relationship concerns. "I mean, kissing is one thing, but… isn't this cheating, Santana? I can't cheat on Artie, he would be so hurt." Fear struck in Santana's chest as she frantically scrambled for an excuse and ended up blubbered out something about how messing around with other girls isn't cheating because "the plumbing is different." Relief swept over her when Brittany nodded her head in understanding, and then changed the subject.

It didn't take long before it all became too much. Santana missed Brittany every second that they weren't together. She couldn't stand Glee club anymore because more often than not, Brittany spent the majority of the time sitting on Artie's lap, giggling and kissing him in such a lovey, sickening way that it made Santana's stomach revolt. Nights were especially hard. Santana laid awake for hours on end, tossing and turning and wishing to no one in particular that Brittany was there with her, holding her in her arms, making her feel safe and loved. She closed her eyes and daydreamed of her beautiful blonde best friend laying next to her, pretending that the fingers tracing delicate patterns and letters across her skin were Brittany's, not her own. She cried herself to sleep nearly every night, desperately wishing the days would pass faster so that they could get to their weekend sleepovers, and wondering what Brittany was doing in those elusive moments.

And then the day finally came. "This is it," Santana whispered to herself as she looked in the mirror. This was the day. The day that she was going to tell Brittany the truth. The day that she was going to risk it all, her whole heart and all of her sanity, to be with the girl that she loves. She was sick of letting her pride swallow her chances of real happiness. Taking one last look in the full length mirror hanging on the back of her door, and a shot of the tequila she kept hidden under her bed for good luck, Santana took a deep breath and smiled despite herself. It was now or never.

It seemed to take the whole day for an opportunity to arise where she could talk to Brittany alone. But eventually Brittany broke herself away from Artie and went to her locker by herself, and Santana knew she had only a short time to say what she had to say. Her lungs felt tight and her hands shook uncontrollably, but she forced herself to walk down the hall. Her eyes scanned the scene, careful not to meet a single passing gaze. She felt like everyone was watching her, everyone knew what she was doing. In a voice that Santana was sure was low enough that no one but Brittany could hear, she delivered her speech. She could feel the tears rising and she hesitated briefly, but then she pushed herself to go on; it was too late to back away now. She poured all of her heart and her deepest fears to the girl standing in front of her. When she was finished, she was sure that she had done the right thing. She was sure that this was a risk that she was willing to take. She was sure that Brittany was worth it. She had spent weeks mentally preparing herself for Brittany to say yes, for them to take the first step, for the looks they were bound to get when people found out.

The problem was, however, Santana had not prepared herself at all for the alternative. To be turned down by Brittany for some four eyed loser in a wheelchair.

_Of course I love you. I do._

_I would totally be with you…_

_..if it weren't for Artie._

_I love him, too._

_..I can't break up with him…_

_It wouldn't be right, Santana._

_Don't. I'm sorry…_

Looking back now, everything from that point on is a blur.

Santana doesn't even remember walking away. Did she go to class? She thinks so. But she couldn't tell you which one or what went on. She doesn't remember driving home. As a matter of fact, the next thing she knew, she was in her bathroom, wild tears streaking her face, her body shaking as if she were standing outside in a snowstorm wearing nothing but a t-shirt. Her chest felt like it was caving in as she struggled for each breath, choking on her sobs. Gripping the edge of the white linoleum sink to keep herself from sinking to the floor, she blinked a few times to clear her vision, looked into the mess she had made in the sink and spotted what she was looking for. The way the light glistened off the sharpest edge, Santana could almost swear the little piece of metal was telling her it had missed her.

"Shut the fuck up," she growled under her breath, reaching down and sliding it up the sink bowl until it reached the brim and she could securely grip it between her fingers. "Don't make me think. That's not what you're for."

_That sentence ended with a preposition._Her realization made her laugh suddenly. A pathetic, guttural laugh that tickled her throat and made her cough. _How appropriate, Santana. Nice._ With a smile that contravened what she was actually feeling inside, she stared down at the blade, turning it from side to side in her unsteady hand. Admiring the way the bathroom light made it gleam, she wondered to herself, how could something so small feel so heavy.

Santana stumbled back across the bathroom and turned the lock on the door, though she knew no one was home. She turned around and slid slowly down the wall until her butt hit the floor, knees bent in front of her. She let her right leg go lax and fall to the side, resting it so that she had full access to her inner thigh. As she lightly drug her left hand across her leg, scrunching her shorts up as far as they could go, she traced her old scars with her eyes, suddenly remembering how long it had actually been since the last time she had done this. Each smooth white line resembled a memory, each one held a meaning, each one brought back a painful recollection of self loathing and utter defeat. It had been Santana's way of dealing with emotional turmoil. She overrode mental anguish with physical destruction. While that might not make sense to most, to Santana it was the perfect escape. You have no say in who you fall for, who breaks your heart, who makes you feel bad about yourself, who damages you mentally. But this… these marks, these cuts. They were a whole different kind of pain. A pain that Santana could control.

When Santana was promoted to head Cheerio, she had stopped cutting out of fear that someone was going to look up at her at the top of the pyramid and discover her marks underneath her short skirt. She hadn't worried about it until then because she'd always been careful to do her work high enough that her skirt covered it. But now with people going to be seeing her from a new angle, it was just too nerve wracking to chance it.

Though Santana told herself that she had everything she could want now, there was still something she couldn't identify deep down inside of her, something hollow and empty that sat like a sack of rocks on her soul. It wasn't long before she sought out a new method of coping to replace the one that she'd deemed too risky: alcohol. She started hiding bottles under her bed and in her underwear drawer for days when she felt like she just couldn't handle being sober anymore. The alcohol burned her throat and made her gag, but when she started feeling tipsy, she knew it was worth it. She'd lie in bed and listen to music, her mind wandering far from reality, enabling her temporary escape. Alcohol became the solace that cutting once had been for her, and though she knew cutting dissociated her from reality better than tequila ever could, the burning liquid still helped considerably, and that was good enough for her.

Santana sucked in a sharp breath as she slid the blade across her tender skin. For as long as it had been, Santana was surprised to find that it was exactly how she remembered. Squeezing her eyes shut, she pressed harder, feeling the trail of warm blood already starting to run down her leg. "Shit," she muttered as she realized it had run straight into her shorts, soaking the fabric. Without thinking, she wiped her palm across the trail of dark red, only making more of a mess. Deciding it was more trouble than it was worth and that her family owned a washing machine for a reason, she let it go and refocused her concentration on the task at hand.

_It was Friday night and Santana had gone over Brittany's house after school, just like she did every Friday. They were 12 years old and had really only been having these weekly sleep-overs for the last two years at best, but Santana felt like she had been doing this for her entire life._

"_Why was your sister crying, Britt? Is she okay?" Santana asked, worry clouding her face when Brittany came back into her room looking sad._

"_Yeah, she's okay. Just sad, I guess." Brittany sat on the edge of the bed, looking at her feet. "She said her best friend keeps ditching her for her new boyfriend. It must hurt her feelings pretty bad, ya know?"_

_Santana frowned. "That really sucks, B."_

"_Yeah," Brittany replied quietly, still looking towards the floor, clearly thinking about something important. After a few seconds, she turned her head and looked up at Santana, tears brimming her eyes. "You promise you'll never do that to me, Santana? Promise you'll never ditch me when you get a boyfriend? I don't ever want to hurt like that."_

_The look on Brittany's face broke Santana's heart. "Britt," she sighed, reaching her hand out to her best friend. Brittany took it and Santana pulled her in closer. "I would never, ever ditch you for anyone, especially some stupid boy," she whispered honestly, wrapping her arms around Brittany's neck, hugging her for reassurance. Brittany sighed in obvious relief, wiping a tear on Santana's shoulder and sniffling._

"_Thanks, Tana. You're the best." Wrapping her arms around Santana's waist and sending the reassurance back through a light squeeze, she added, "And the same goes for me. No boy will ever come between us. You're my best friend. You'll always come first. Promise."_

"_I know, B. I believe you," Santana laughed softly._

"_Good. I love you, Santana. Don't forget that, okay?" Brittany pulled back from their embrace, meeting Santana's dark chocolate eyes with her own baby blue ones._

_The sincerity on Brittany's face was more than enough for Santana to trust every word that she said. And she did. She trusted Brittany more than anyone else in the world, even more than her own parents. She didn't have to tell Santana any of these things; she already knew Brittany would never lie to her. She'd never make a promise she didn't intend to keep or tell her something that she didn't fully believe to be 100% true herself. Brittany was the most caring, selfless, trusting person that Santana had ever met, and she believed every word that she said._

"_I won't. I love you, too."_

Santana's hands shook less and less each time she dragged the cold metal through her skin. Each cut lifted a weight off of her heart, pushed Brittany's rejection a little farther out of her mind. It didn't take long before the pain stopped registering in her brain, and it was like she was outside of her own body, hovering over herself and watching through someone else's eyes.

When she finally let the blade slip from her grasp and fall to the floor, Santana just sat there stared numbly at what she had done. A slow stream of blood oozed from the wounds, trickling down her thigh and dripping into a pool on the floor. Santana felt nothing. She wasn't ashamed, she wasn't mad at herself, she wasn't mad at Brittany. She stared at her new cuts until they started to turn sticky and clot, knowing they would turn into scars someday, turn into new white lines of painful memory for her to look back at and torture herself with. But right now, she didn't care. They weren't a big deal. Just another notch to add to her belt of fuck-ups. All that mattered was that nothing hurt anymore.

The earlier ringing in her ears was now replaced by the soft sound of her heart beating in slow, steady thumps against her ear drums. Taking a deep breath, Santana closed her eyes and let her head fall back to rest against the wall. After all these years, Brittany had broken the promise that had always been so sacred to Santana. Not because she meant to, Santana told herself, defending Brittany like she always did, even to herself. But because she had simply forgotten.

And now, alone this night on the cold bathroom floor as she drifted in and out of consciousness, it was Santana who could finally forget.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Hey guys. So I know it's been over a year since I updated this, and I know that is a totally unacceptable amount of time.. HOWEVER, I am happy to finally present to you all the final chapter of this story (I'm actually a little nervous, whew!). I apologize for making you wait, and I appreciate all of you that patiently waited for me through my past year of personal turmoil. I love you guys and I am glad I could finish this for you. I am going to start working on finishing my other story too now that this one is done, so here goes!**

**Enjoy! And, of course, reviews are appreciated. They make my day :)**

* * *

><p>When she went back to school the next day, Santana tried to ignore Brittany. She tried to keep her distance, tried to keep any and all conversation to a minimum. But she found that, after everything, as hard as it was to have Brittany close to her, it was even harder to be without her. And so she slowly began to let herself revert back to whatever of their friendship she could stand.<p>

It took a few weeks before things between Santana and Brittany went back to seemingly normal. There were still times though when Santana couldn't stop her heart from breaking when she heard Brittany say something adorably strange or when she saw Brittany and Artie together, the latter being something she vehemently tried to avoid. Though her physical scars were starting to heal, her emotional ones weren't so lucky, and that certainly didn't help at all. Brittany and her were still friends, and she did her best to act like nothing had changed since their little "incident", but Santana couldn't help but feel distant. Her heart ached when Brittany linked their pinkies together in the hallway. It was something so simple, so innocently Brittany. And yet Santana couldn't help but completely over analyze Brittany's motives.

_Why is she touching me? What does this mean to her? We're just friends, right? She used to squeeze tighter than this. Can she feel my hand shaking? _

She did have to admit though, last week when Brittany broke up with Artie for calling her stupid, she couldn't remember the last time she felt so relieved. Any other time someone dared to slander her precious Brittany, Santana wouldn't have hesitated for longer than a blink of an eye before she ripped them to shreds with her vicious vocabulary. But this time was... different. She let him go. In her mind she reasoned that there was nothing that she could say to him that could hurt him any worse than he was already feeling. Even her sharpest words couldn't rip anything worthwhile from him now. He'd already lost the most valuable part of his existence, and he'd done it all by himself without any of her help.

He had lost Brittany.

The thought of it, being the target of all the hurt and betrayal that Brittany was feeling, twisted her gut, and she almost felt bad for Artie. Almost.

As soon as Brittany came to her with tears in her eyes, Santana instantly reverted back to her best friend role. She held Brittany while she cried, wiped the tears away, and told her that Artie didn't deserve someone as amazing as her.

And then it wasn't long after that before Brittany started coming over to Santana's house again. At first, it was just maybe once a week. Brittany would text, they'd make plans to do homework or whatever, Brittany would come over, and they'd hang out in the living room for a few hours. Once a week became twice a week, which became three times a week. Eventually they moved their study parties back up to Santana's bedroom where they sat on the bed and half did their homework, half watched what was on TV.

Just when Santana had started to think that they were never going to go back to what they once had been, whatever that had been, Brittany showed up unannounced for another "study session". Santana was lying on her bed reading a magazine when she heard the soft rapping on her bedroom door.

"Hello?" she asked, sitting up. Her heart started to hammer against her ribs and a pang of fear struck inside her chest. Her parents were both working late and she was home alone.

"Hey," Brittany whispered quietly as she opened the door slowly. "Are you busy?"

"Brittany, oh my god, you scared the shit out of me." Santana closed her eyes and exhaled a heavy breath. "Why didn't you call?"

"I don't know, I just..." Brittany's words trailed off as her gaze dropped to her nervous, fidgeting fingers.

Santana frowned as she slid off of the bed, making her way across the room and cupping Brittany's face in her hands. She lifted her chin to meet her eyes and was met with a sadness she hadn't seen in such a long time. "Brittany, what's wrong?"

"Nothing, I just thought maybe we could study tonight?"

Santana raised an eyebrow. "Britt, its Saturday. We don't have any homework and there is nothing to study for."

"Oh." Brittany's eyes dropped back to the floor, though Santana still held her chin gently with her fingers. "Right. Well. Maybe we could just watch a movie, then?" Brittany's bright eyes lifted and met Santana's again, and she rolled her bottom lip hopefully between her teeth as she waited for Santana's response.

Though Brittany was completely innocent in her actions, Santana's heart fluttered. She couldn't tell if it was from the way Brittany ever so slightly chewed her bottom lip or the realization that Brittany was looking for an excuse to spend time with her, but either way, Santana found herself desperately fighting the urge to lean forward and claim the beautiful blonde's lips with her own, the same way she had so many times in the past. They were already so close…

Santana's gaze fell unconsciously to Brittany's lips, and she gently stroked her thumb along Brittany's jaw line. "Of course," she breathed the words out, much quieter than she'd intended. But when Brittany smiled, Santana's mind plunged back into real time. She cleared her throat and said again, "Of course, Britt. Since when would I ever say no to Tana and Britt-Britt time?"

Brittany's face instantly lit up and Santana could tell she was doing her best to contain her excitement. "Yay!" Brittany bounced on her toes and clasped her hands together in front of her mouth. "I missed our movie nights, San. What do you want to- oh!" Brittany's blue eyes widened even more. "How about _Dangerous Minds_? I love that movie cause it reminds me of our school where no one wants to listen to the teacher, just like when Mr. Shue tries to teach Spanish. Except," Brittany's brows furrowed and her eyes shifted to the wall behind Santana, as if lost in deep thought about something, "we don't live in the ghetto… or California…and none of them are in a wheel chair…and I don't know anyone who has been shot.." she muttered, trailing off.

Santana chuckled under her breath and raked her fingers through Brittany's soft hair, stopping to carefully cup her hand around the back of Brittany's neck. "We can watch whatever you want, Britt."

Brittany's focus shifted back to Santana and she smiled, jolting Santana's heart for the second time that night. "Let's make some popcorn." Brittany unclasped her hands and grabbed Santana's shoulders, pulling her forward so that she could kiss her cheek. And with that, she turned and skipped away, kitchen bound to raid the cabinets for movie snacks.

Santana was thankful Brittany hadn't stuck around to see her reaction. A simple kiss on the cheek and here she was, frozen to the floor, unable to stop her jaw from hanging open.

It was a full fifteen seconds before she realized she had forgotten to breathe.

Two cans of soda, two bags of popcorn (they burned the first one), and a box of Dots (Brittany's favorite candy that Santana just happened to have in the pantry for an occasion such as this) later, the two girls were laid out on the couch at either end, feet touching in the middle, with a blanket draped across their legs. As the opening credits started, Santana couldn't contain her cheesy grin as she watched Brittany rap along with "Gangster Paradise". The way she puckered up her lips and threw gang signs around was just too entertaining. Only Brittany could make rapping about the life of a thug adorable.

"Very nice, Britt. You're putting Coolio to shame with his own song right now."

"I should totally do this for Glee," Brittany giggled, a satisfied smirk on her face. "I bet I rap better than anyone else in the club."

"Hah, yeah, go ahead and run that by Shue. I bet you do." The thought made Santana smile as she emptied a handful of over-salted popcorn into her mouth.

"Yep," Brittany said, chewing on a Dot. "I bet I'm even better than Mercedes. And she's black." She raised her eyebrows and shrugged matter-of-factly.

A laugh erupted from Santana's chest. She playfully kicked Brittany under the blanket, and got a kick back in return. "Britt, you're killing me," she warned, trying to control her giggles.

"I have to pee," Brittany announced after their momentary footsie war. As she flung the blanket back off of her and stood up, Santana noticed again, like she had that first night they'd slept together, how incredible toned and sexy Brittany's legs are. She watched as Brittany seemed to float across the carpet, long perfect legs carrying her flawlessly out of the room. It'd been so long since Santana had let herself sneak looks at her best friend in _that kind of way._

Santana adjusted her pillow and shuffled herself into a comfortable position to watch the movie. Brittany returned to the room and got back on the couch. But instead of lying back down on the opposite end where she had been, an entire field of butterflies burst in Santana's belly when she found Brittany crawling up next to her, propping herself up with one elbow on either side of Santana, their faces just inches apart.

"What-" Santana's breathing hitched and she swallowed. "What are you doing?"

"You remember how we always used to cuddle when we watched movies?" Brittany's eyes never left Santana's. Santana nodded. "Well," Brittany shrugged, "I really... I missed that a lot. And I was thinking, if you wanted to, maybe… maybe I could lay with you? Like we used to?"

Unable to find her voice, all Santana could do was nod again. That was all that Brittany needed though, and next thing she knew, Brittany had wedged herself between Santana and the couch, her arm draped across Santana's stomach, and her head resting on her chest. A flash of heat rushed through Santana's entire body and made her feel lightheaded. She sent out a silent 'thank you' to whoever was listening that she was lying down. Because had she been standing, she was sure she would have fainted.

Goosebumps plagued every inch of Santana's body as Brittany delicately grazed her fingertips across the top of Santana's forearm. "I missed this," Brittany breathed into Santana's warm skin, and Santana swore she felt the blonde snuggle in just a little bit closer. She wondered if Brittany could feel her heart hammering in her chest. Then again, after Brittany settled on top of her, Santana couldn't really tell if her pulse rate had quadrupled or if it had just stopped all together.

Santana ran her hand along Brittany's side, twisting a lock of blonde around her finger before whispering back into her best friend's hair. "I missed this, too. I missed us."

"Gangster Paradise" faded away in the background as Santana closed her eyes, the familiar scent of Brittany's shampoo calming her frantic nerves. It wasn't fifteen minutes before they were both sound asleep.

It had been a long day. Two tests, a major group project, and an oral presentation all within a couple hours of one another. Even Glee club, Santana's favorite part of her day, was particularly exhausting today. She left school without saying goodbye to anyone, not even Brittany. Things between the two of them were great, their cuddle-time movie nights becoming a regular thing again, but Santana was just tired. She just needed to be alone. Her parents were both out of town, like usual, and she had the house all to herself. All she could think about was sleep. Thank god it was Friday.

"Ugh," she grunted as she drug herself up the steps, unable to remember the last time she was this tired. She opened her bedroom door and dropped her bag, glancing around for bed clothes as she stripped off her jeans.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," she muttered as she looked at her laundry hamper that her mother must have emptied before they left for the airport this afternoon. It was way too warm in the house for sweatpants, and all of her pajama shorts were now downstairs in the basement laundry room. Deciding that was out of the question, she found an extra large t-shirt from the night before tangled in the blankets and pulled it over her head before grabbing her phone and climbing onto her bed. She clicked on the bedside lamp and picked up the copy of _Catching Fire _that rested on her nightstand, figuring she'd try to get a few chapters in before calling it a night.

Her phone vibrated beside her just as she was getting comfortable. The backlight lit up and a text message notification flashed across the screen. One new message from Brittany.

Santana slid her thumb across the screen to unlock it and opened the message.

_Hey San, where'd you go? I looked for you everywhere._

Santana felt a pang of guilt for not having bothered to even text Brittany to tell her she'd left. She should have known Brittany would conduct her own personal search party across the school looking for her.

_I'm sorry, Britt-Britt. I went home. Today kicked my ass, I just needed to go lay down. I should have told you, I'm sorry._

Santana sighed as she let the phone fall to her lap and leaned back against the headboard. Her phone buzzed again less than a minute later.

_Aww, my sleepy little duckling. _Santana couldn't help but smile. _I have something I wanna talk to you about, but it can wait. Take a nap, I will talk to you later 3 xoxo_

Setting her phone on the pillow beside her, Santana picked up the book again and began to read. She barely made it two pages before exhaustion got the best of her and sleep took over her body.

Santana awoke a few hours later to the sound of her door creaking open slowly. A soft "hey" came from that direction as she blinked the sleep away from her eyes. A quick peek at the clock beside her bed told her it was 10:45pm.

"Britt?" Santana squinted as her contacts adjusted and her vision focused. The light from the lamp lit the room with a soft orange glow and she watched as Brittany slipped into the room and closed the door quietly behind her. "What are you doing here? Why didn't you call?"

"I did, silly." Brittany tiptoed across the room as if Santana was still asleep and she didn't want to wake her. "Kurt texted me and asked if I wanted to go out to a poetry reading at the coffee shop with him and Blaine and I really didn't want to go, so I told him I couldn't cause I was hanging out with you, but then I felt bad for lying so I decided to come over and hang out with you. Cause then I wouldn't be lying." Brittany sat on the bottom of the bed and pulled her legs up, Indian style. Her face beamed, clearly proud of her own problem solving skill.

"Poetry reading?" Santana snorted. "Just when I thought Queenie and Princess Gel Helmet couldn't possibly get any gayer." She rubbed her eyes and yawned. "Jesus, my contacts are burning. I hate when I fall asleep with them in." She pulled the blanket off of her and swung her legs over the edge of the bed, reaching for her contact case.

"So drinking coffee and listening to Lima's finest thick-rimmed-glasses dorks ramble on and on about their sad love lives and the beauty of nature isn't your idea of an exciting Friday night out?" Santana joked as she plucked out her first contact and blinked a few times. When Brittany failed to respond, Santana, working on her second contact, sighed, "its okay, B. I think poetry is confusing too, don't feel bad."

"No, it's not that," Brittany mumbled. "I just… I don't…"

"Mm?" Santana tilted her head back and squeezed drops into each of her eyes.

"San," Brittany's voice was barely a whisper. "What happened to your legs?"

The question hit Santana like a blow to the stomach. Her chest tightened and suddenly it felt like there was no air in her lungs. The sound of her pounding heart echoed off the walls, slicing through the deafening silence in the room.

_Shit_.

"San-"

"What?!" Santana snapped, turning towards Brittany, the bottle of saline solution still clenched in her hand. Brittany's eyes were wider than Santana had ever seen them, and even in the orange glow of the lamp, she could see the color had drained from her face.

Santana swallowed hard and turned away, dropping her focus to her fidgeting hands. She caught the hem of her t-shirt between her fingers and stretched it across her lap to cover her legs, suddenly more self conscious than she could ever remember being in her entire life. Brittany didn't make a sound. Santana was pretty sure she was actually holding her breath.

"I-" Santana attempted to respond, but a lump formed in her suddenly parched throat and her words hitched. She closed her eyes and forced herself to breathe. She had to say something. She had to tell Brittany something. But her mind was blank. She mentally kicked herself for being so naïve to think that no one would ever find out, and then again for being so unprepared for if someone did.

Brittany's hand gently wrapping around her own caused Santana's eyes to snap back open. Panic struck in her chest as Brittany scooted closer to her and pulled Santana's hand into her lap, tugging on the fabric of the t-shirt to release it from her grip.

"No, no," Santana sputtered, her mind racing as she franticly grasped for her shirt again. Her efforts were rendered useless though when Brittany tightened her grasp on Santana's hand, and then used her other hand to cup Santana's face with the perfect combination of gentleness and demand. She turned Santana face towards her own. Santana wasn't able to see the tears brimming Brittany's blue eyes through the moisture obscuring her own vision.

"Baby," Brittany hushed as she grazed her thumb across Santana's cheek before tucking a few stray hairs behind her ear. Santana closed her eyes again and leaned into Brittany as a single heavy tear escaped and barreled down her cheek, crashing with the weight of the world onto her forearm.

A sob erupted from somewhere deep inside of Santana. Brittany pulled her close and hushed her as Santana choked out "I'm sorry."

"Shh, shh," Brittany hummed, pressing her lips to Santana's. "Don't apologize."

Fear of what was to come, fear of what would happen now that some knew, now that _Brittany_ knew, froze Santana in place. But Brittany continued to pepper her with light kisses, along her jaw line, the corner of her mouth. The love and sincerity that radiated from her touch warmed Santana to the core and she felt herself melt into Brittany's touch. She caught Brittany's lips with her own and returned the kiss.

The bitter taste of salt mixed with the sweetness of Brittany's bubblegum chapstick, and when Santana pulled away to apologize again, she found that the tears she'd tasted weren't just her own.

"Tana," Brittany whispered, her voice an octave lower than Santana had ever heard. "When did… what happened?" Her fingers traced Santana's thighs, but her eyes stayed locked with the dark ones across from her.

"I…" Santana started. She wanted to lie. She wanted to run away, hide forever, never having to explain to anyone what happened. But the two of them were finally getting back what they used to have, she finally had her Brittany back.

And her Brittany deserved the truth.

"I…" she stuttered again. "Most of them are old. Like… from years ago. For different reasons." Santana hoped that would be explanation enough.

"Most of them." Brittany lightly chewed her bottom lip before quietly adding, "What about the rest?"

She should have known she couldn't get that lucky.

"I was just… I was sad, Britt." Santana could feel her stomach twist and a second round of tears welling behind her eyes. She fought them as hard as she could and continued. "When I lost you to Artie, in my mind, I had lost everything. I… I was so sick, I was so numb, all I wanted was for you to love me and I just felt nothing. I couldn't-"

The memory of the day Brittany turned her down for Artie resurfaced in her memory as fresh as the day it had happened and a wave of nausea rolled through her gut. She covered her face with her hands and curled forward in her own lap, trying to hide from the rapidly increasing heat of rejection and loss that was invading her body as another sob shorted her mid-sentence.

"I just needed…" she choked through her tears. "I'm so sorry, Britt. I just… I just wanted to feel something." She sucked in as much air as her lungs would allow as she desperately attempted to control the silent sobs that were wracking her to the core.

Brittany slid off the edge of the bed and squatted in front of Santana's trembling body. She gently wrapped her fingers around Santana's wrists and massaged soft, comforting circles on the back of her hands. It took a few minutes before Santana would look at her, but Brittany had all the time and patience in the world.

"Santana, I had no idea," Brittany whispered softly, her hands abandoning Santana's wrists to instead cup her face. "I'm so sorry, I had no idea," her voice trailed off as her mind felt suddenly lost in the sad brown eyes looking back at her.

"Britt, it's not your fault," Santana breathed.

"No," Brittany interrupted. She closed her eyes and let out a short breath, trying to regain her composure. She opened her eyes again to meet Santana's and rested her hands on the shorter girl's legs. "No, Santana, I should have known something was wrong. Something has felt off for so long now, and I just ignored it." She blinked away more tears and cleared her throat. "Remember earlier, I told you I wanted to talk to you about something?"

Santana nodded.

"Well," she began, her voice shaking slightly. "A few weeks ago, I made a really big mistake." She curled the corner of her mouth in failed attempt at a half smile. "I uh," her fingers found the hem of Santana's sleep shirt and she pinched it between her fingers. "I made a big mistake and I hurt someone that I love more than anything else in the world. I chose to be with some boy at school, and I turned you down. I thought I was making the right choice. I thought he was what I needed. But what I failed to realize was that what I needed had been right in front of my face all along."

Santana exhaled a breath she'd been holding in for half a minute as fresh tears barreled down her cheeks. Brittany slipped her hands into Santana's and cleared her throat again before continuing.

"So, what I wanted to tell you is that I've finally realized what I should have seen a long time ago. And that, if you'll still have me, I want to be with you."

Santana's eyes went wide at Brittany's words. And, as she looked into Brittany's clear blue eyes, she couldn't help but think she had never seen such sincerity on someone's face.

A small, choked laugh broke through Santana's lips and she tightened her grip around Brittany's hands. "If I'll still have you? Britt, you're all I've wanted for as long as I can remember."

Brittany's face broke into a smile as well and her eyes shimmered in excitement. "Well then, I am yours. Proudly so."

Santana's smile doubled, if even possible, and Brittany stood up to capture the dark haired girl's lips with her own.

"I'm sorry," Brittany gasped between kisses. "I'm sorry Santana, I didn't even know there was a problem." Her lips captured Santana's desperately, as though trying to make up for lost time and erase painful memories.

"Britt," Santana pulled back, cupping Brittany's face in her hands once again, and looked her in the eyes. "You don't need to apologize. It's my own fault for letting myself get this out of hand. How could you ever know if I never told you? I have plenty of problems, Britt, as you probably have guessed, and I'm pretty sure most of them don't even have any answers."

Brittany smiled though her tears. "Well, this isn't one of them anymore. And from here on out, I'll always be here for you. And I'll do my best to help you solve your problems. Even the ones without solutions. But I need you to make a deal with me, okay?"

Santana's eyebrows raised, and she watched Brittany carefully, prepared to promise Brittany anything she wanted. She waited for Brittany to say something, but Brittany was silent. Instead, the blonde leaned back in and kissed her new girlfriends lips. She started slow and gentle, _simultaneously lifting Santana's t-shirt over her head and_ sucking lightly on her bottom lip, sending chills down the girl's spine. But after a minute, Brittany's kisses got more passionate and she scooted Santana back on to the bed until she had her straddled underneath herself. She kissed down Santana's neck, her shoulders, her collar bone, her breasts, her perfectly tanned, toned stomach, until she reached her underwear. Without a word, Brittany hooked her fingers around the elastic and gently pulled them from Santana's body, discarding them on the floor next to them. Kneeling on the floor, she lifted one of Santana's calves and rested it on her shoulder as she continued her expedition of light kisses up her leg, along her inner thigh. When she reached the scars, Santana winced in discomfort as the blonde's lips brushed across the raised lines, but Brittany knew that the pain of those scars was much more than physical.

Santana's heart pounded in her chest and she squeezed her eyes shut as hard as she could to try to hinder the tears she felt rising. She knew what was coming. They'd done this before, she'd been in this position what must have been a hundred times, but for some reason tonight felt… different. She felt like it was the first time. And, in some ways, she guessed it kind of was. This is the first time Brittany was really seeing her completely vulnerable, without any lies or cover ups, without her hiding her shame in the dark. This was the first time she truly believed that it was possible for Brittany to love her completely for all that she was, past guilt and scars included.

It was the first time she truly believed that it was more than a possibility. It was reality.

Santana sucked in a sharp breath as she felt Brittany's warm tongue part her folds, and she was suddenly aware of how wet she'd become in anticipation of this moment. Her efforts dedicated to not letting herself start sobbing uncontrollably were quickly reassigned to not letting herself moan embarrassingly at the immense pleasure building in her core. Brittany knew Santana's body like a map she'd studied for her entire life. Every flick of Brittany's tongue, every gentle sucking motion, nearly sent Santana over the edge. It was unlike anything else she'd ever felt before. It was something for which she'd longed for as long as she could remember. This wasn't just sex. This wasn't just two best friends exploring each other's bodies for fun on a Friday night. This was two people in love, two girls completely in love, and the feeling was nearly overwhelming. One hand gripping the sheet beneath her and the other tangled in Brittany's long blonde locks, Santana finally let herself be conquered by Brittany's flawless love, and she nearly cried out Brittany's name as she came harder than she could ever remember into her girlfriend's mouth.

Using the last bit of energy her body could muster, Santana pulled Brittany onto the bed where she collapsed next to her. Brittany wrapped her arms around the smaller girl, pulling her into herself and holding her tightly as she rode out her post-orgasm haze. Santana closed her eyes, basking in the scent of Brittany's perfume mixed with the hint of sex in the air, and sighed as she felt Brittany stroke her hair and kiss her forehead softly.

A few silent minutes passed before either of them spoke.

"Britt?" Santana whispered.

"Yeah?"

"What was the deal?"

Brittany shifted slightly away from Santana, propping herself up on her elbow so Santana could look her in the eyes. She tucked a strand of dark hair behind Santana's ear and cupped her face, leaning in to place a soft peck on her lips. "I need you to promise me," she took her hand from Santana's face, lightly traced her fingers down the tan girl's perfect body, and came to rest upon her scarred thighs, "that from now on, you let me be the one to make you feel."

Santana was pretty sure that was a deal she could live with.


End file.
